


Dreams Come True

by RiYuYami



Series: Pulling Strings [8]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiYuYami/pseuds/RiYuYami
Summary: His mother use to tell him when he was a child that ‘dreams can sometimes tell you of events of the future, never brush off those dreams, they’re a warning’.Rather ironic that a letter from Joey Drew would come to Henry after he had a nightmare of the studio with a monster Bendy inhabiting it.





	Dreams Come True

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to give writing fanfics for BATIM a try.
> 
> This is part of a series for fics for some headcanons I have for the events of Henry’s adventures in the studio and his life before and after said events.
> 
> Seeing as this is the first part, this is before the events.
> 
> Some stuff with this au is picked up from other aus and such, or at least a few elements that became the base for some of the ideas. Also, going with Ross for Henry’s last name, I’ve noticed it’s very popular and it seems fitting for the guy.
> 
> Lyrics from Can’t Be Erased were used in this, credit goes to JT Machinima. 
> 
> On with the fic!
> 
> EDIT: After giving it some thought, I decided to include this in the Pulling Strings au, especially with a one-shot I have in the works that is connected to this story and the ones in Pulling Strings. The other story I have that does alongside this story (which is actually a chapter fic of one-shots post-game) can also fit into Pulling Strings, this way everything is connected and I don't have to worry about writing two series.

Henry frowned as he walked along the old, creaking floorboards of what looked like the old studio of his younger years, yet so… different. Everything was coated in a sepia tone-like lighting, the colors muted to shades of yellow and black. The scent of ink, a smell that Henry knew better than any smell in his life, was present and choking him.

It was everywhere, stronger then the smell of old wood and decaying paper.

He shook his head, walking along the dark hallway, the lights flickering, the posters of old animated shorts he had once been involved with stared at him with soulless, pie-cut eyes. Henry felt like they were watching his every move.

There was only silence around him, the only noises were his heavy footsteps and the creaking of an old building trying to settle.

The old artist felt like he wasn’t alone here.

Faintly, he heard something clicking and popping, like something was starting up.

A light, in the distance, in a room of darkness at the end of the hall.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Henry slowly approached the room, the scent of ink much stronger here. In his hands was a fire axe, covered in ink, just like his hands were. When did he grab this? He didn’t remember doing so…

Shaking his head, the old man continued onward until he stepped into the room. It was flooded with ink, it felt cold against his skin as it soaked into his shoes and pants. The light was a projector and there was a clip playing, over and over.

It was a little motion test sequence of Bendy the Dancing Demon, bouncing up and down in place, smiling at him. Henry frowned, staring at the cartoon clip, before hearing a loud sound, of a speaker. Music started to play and he heard singing, of a voice that Henry only ever heard in his head when he was animating the silent demon.

_I’m the dancing demon! Watch me twirl and hop and spin!_

The Bendy on the screen was mouthing the words, his actions showing him dancing.

_I’m quick to give a smile, but I won’t forgive your sins…_

Henry stumbled back as the image narrowed his eyes at him, the smile turning into a deep frown. He watched in shock as Bendy pulled himself from the screen, his animated body becoming solid, looking rather strange to be three dimensional, as he fell into the ink.

Bendy turned to look at Henry, laughing a bit as he started to approach.

“Ya left us here, Henry, to rot an' be forgotten…” Bendy said, his voice becoming distorted, echo-y, as he slowly walked towards the human. “Everyone has been ruined by your departure… but maybe, maybe… we can fix dat li'l mistake you made…”

He started to laugh as his body began to change.

The round tips of his gloves became rather sharp, tearing in places as ink began to pool out of the tears. His limbs went from rubbery to stiff, as if he was developing a more-realistic look to them.

The ink on his head was dripping, a lot on the right side, his eye covered while the other glared daggers at Henry. If looks could kill, Henry was sure he’d drop where he stood the moment he made eye contact with the devil darlin’.

The laughter continued, but sounded painful, as if Bendy didn’t have control over what was happening to his body, to the horrific changes. From a cute cartoon to something not… right.

The animator gripped his axe tightly, backing up into a corner, feeling like the ink was keeping him from running out into the hall. Bendy… or what couldn’t even be considered Bendy anymore, was much different from before.

His body was more human-like, tall and lanky, his arms thin and hands mutated. It looked like it hurt him to walk, his legs looked wrong. His head was messed up, his eyes covered by ink, his horns were misshapen, and his smile…

His smile looked so forced, so painful, but full of so much malicious glee.

 **“The wonders of imaginations!”** This… “Bendy” roared through clenched teeth. **“Welcome home, dear friend, how long we’ve all been waitin’…!”**

He was fast, so close now, Henry could feel ink dripping from the ceiling on him, black, inky lines coated the walls around him and “Bendy”.

**“Let’s create a masterpiece! Breathe life into ya' dreams!”**

The monstrous demon pinned Henry to the wall, a cold, wet hand pressed against his throat. He stared at a face with no eyes, just ink and a smile.

**“All you gotta do… _is start up the machine…_ ”**

Henry gasped and suddenly dropped, slamming into a hard, wooden floor.

He groaned, rubbing his face as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t the ink-filled room, it was… his bedroom, and he was on the floor. He glanced at his clock, finding that he still had about four minutes until the alarm went off.

So… all of that was just a dream? A terrifying dream of his old work place? Of the place that he was forced to leave, and was basically banned from by his so-called best friend? Sighing loudly, Henry shook his head, it was just a nightmare, nothing more, nothing less.

He felt like it had something to do with the nostalgia he felt last night when he was sitting at his desk, drawing images of Bendy. He hadn’t done much with the little guy in so long, he felt like it would be a good idea to draw him again. Apparently, it wasn’t the best idea, seeing as Henry had a nightmare that his cute cartoon turned into an angry monster before his very eyes.

With another sigh, Henry decided to just get himself ready for work, no use sleeping after a dream like that, and with only a few minutes before the alarm went off.

\--

Henry usually never remembered his dreams, the exceptions were usually dreams of the war, or ridiculous things that just stuck around.

But this one… this Bendy dream, it was on his mind all day, and it bothered him greatly.

His mother use to tell him when he was a child that ‘dreams can sometimes tell you of events of the future, never brush off those dreams, they’re a warning’.

Now, Henry wasn’t going to just let those words be the reason the dream stuck around in his mind all day. It was just a jarring dream, of a place he hadn’t seen in years, and of a cartoon character stolen from him. It’s not like he’ll be going back to the studio, only to find that Bendy was real and wanted him dead!

That’s just nuts, impossible, unbelievable!

But then why did the very idea of it fill him with cold dread?

He scratched his head, getting really irritated by these thoughts as he walked up the front stairs to his apartment building, pausing when he heard his name being called.

“Mr. Ross!”

Turning, Henry spotted a lively, slightly younger woman with dark, bouncy curls. “Afternoon, Mavis.” He greeted her with a smile. “And please, call me Henry, you know that.”

“Heh, sorry, I’m on the job, gotta be professional.” Mavis smiled, patting at the mail bag she carried. “How are you, you look a bit frazzled.”

“Long day at work, and not a pleasant morning.” He rubbed at the small bump on his head from his fall.

She nodded. “Oh, I know all about that. Woke up late, my little Cassandra almost missed the bus, dealt with jerks, but that’s normal.” She laughed and dug into her bag. “I’ve got some mail for you today, and for once it’s not bills or catalogs!”

Henry blinked, seeing her holding up an envelope. It was a faded yellow, so old looking… with a bit of something black on the lower left corner. He frowned, stepping down the stairs to take the letter. He froze in place as he recognized the handwriting before he even read the address.

It…

This was Joey Drew’s handwriting, he knew it better than anyone else’s…

“Something wrong?”

Mavis’ question and concerned look snapped Henry out of his sudden state of fear. “You look like you just saw a ghost, hun! What happened?”

“Its… uh…” He cleared his throat, frowning. “It’s just that this letter is from someone I haven’t seen in thirty years, I don’t even know how he got my address, I never told him I moved away.”

“Well, people have their ways.” She frowned. “Did you two part on bad terms?”

“Yeah, he and I had a huge fight before I was drafted, and he didn’t want to see me again. Thank you for the mail, see you tomorrow.”

The mail woman smiled, giving him a gentle pat on the back, before going into the building to deliver the other tenants' mail. Henry stood there for a few moments longer before making his way inside, up to his apartment.

Once inside, he opened the envelope and began to read the message, written on telegram paper, with ink stains. The paper was so old, so yellow… yellow like the colors in his dream…

No, no, this isn’t right, first the dream, now this letter?

Was… was the dream really a warning of the future?

A little part of him screamed at him to not consider taking up Joey’s invitation to return, but another part of him told him to go, get closure over what happened.

Maybe… things wouldn’t be so bad? Maybe the dream was just a coincidence, and Joey does just want to talk to him at the old studio, nothing more, nothing less.

Right?

END

**Author's Note:**

> Short, but I’ve got other ideas for the rest of the series, the majority of which will be on one fanfic, simply because I don’t want to spam the Bendy tags.
> 
> Thanks for reading! This is a first for me in this fandom, so I hope I did alright!


End file.
